


Soldier, Obey

by Aansero



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aansero/pseuds/Aansero
Summary: 'I had thought,' Csevet said dryly, 'that thou wouldst have less of a problem refusing orders from a baseborn such as myself.' Beshelar knew Csevet's self-deprecation was an old tactic learnt by those, including couriers, who were not allowed to defend themselves. It hadn't materialised between them, until now.They were naked, in the same, small bed, but Csevet seemed very far off all the same.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtraPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: _Loyalty kink of the “the option of saying/being able to say no does not occur to X” variety, perhaps with Beshelar as the very, very emotionally fucked-up sub._
> 
> NB: nothing to do with Yuletide.

'I had thought,' Csevet said dryly, 'that thou wouldst have less of a problem refusing orders from a baseborn such as myself.' Beshelar knew Csevet's self-deprecation was an old tactic learnt by those, including couriers, who were not allowed to defend themselves. It hadn't materialised between them, until now.

They were naked, in the same, small bed, but Csevet seemed very far off all the same. He was waiting for a response.

Beshelar knew what the truth was. He couldn't say it.

'Why not? Answer me.'

'I would respect thine orders whatever thy rank,' Beshelar said, the bare bones but undeniable truth of the matter. When Csevet didn't reply he swang his legs over the side of the bed, ran his hands through his hair, and got up.

'Stop,' Csevet said. Beshelar stopped. 'Sit down,' Csevet said, and Beshelar sat down.

. . . . .

 

Neither were inexperienced the first time they fell into bed together: hands and hard muscle, lips and tongue mapping the expanses of the other to find out what weaknesses lay within reach. Over the next week they took their time acquainting themselves with their two bodies together, hot and sweat-slicked. Csevet's nipples were unusual sensitive, as was the back of his neck, where he liked to be held. Beshelar preferred to be the one moving, if one of them was for that moment stationary, and rarely lasted long with his cock between Csevet's wet, pink lips. Csevet sucked cock marvellously. Beshelar had the greater stamina. Beshelar tended to be quiet, whilst Csevet liked to talk.

Early in the second week Csevet knelt on the floor between Beshelar's legs, with Beshelar's cock in his mouth, bumping the back of his throat. Beshelar's hips jerked unexpectedly, and Csevet gagged, coughed, and his teeth grazed the head of Beshelar's cock.

It was more surprise than anything else. Beshelar pushed him back, a little more rough than he'd meant to. Csevet checked him for damage – there was none – then with both hands on him stroked Beshelar back to full hardness.

'I apologise,' Csevet said, still on his knees, voice rough with lust. 'Wilt punish me for my error?'

Beshelar hesitated. He was not into such roleplay. The knowledge that he could hurt Csevet – could kill him, easily – whilst Csevet stood no chance at all against him in such an encounter, was uncomfortable, not erotic.

'Let me make it up to thee,' Csevet said, as diligent and dextrous with his hands on Beshelar's cock as he was in any other thing. His own cock was fully erect despite its neglect. 'Take my mouth. Fuck it, roughly. Teach me to be better for thee.'

He could have said no, he was not into such things; he could have pulled Csevet up and rolled atop him, kissed him with one hand holding the nape of Csevet's neck. He could have shook his head and taken the oil he'd left within reach, and fucked Csevet gently, slowly – until Csevet begged for it to end – for his impertinence.

Instead he took a hold of Csevet's hair, winding it around his fist, and turned them so that Csevet sat on the floor with his back to the bed-frame, and Beshelar was in a position to brace himself against the creaking bed, and fuck Csevet hard and fast in the mouth. He came with an unpleasant feeling in his gut, as Csevet choked and spluttered, swallowing down his release.

Over the next couple of weeks, under Csevet's hands and the heady sound of his moan, Beshelar learnt to pinch Csevet's nipples rather than rub them between forefinger and thumb, and to bite instead of kiss, and to hold him in place with an unrelenting, inescapable grip. He found out how to make Csevet truly beg – arse in the air, neck pinned to the bed, being pounded hard, his whole body shaken with the force of it.

'Slap me,' Csevet said as Beshelar rode him, rocking his hips, Csevet's hand on his cock.

Csevet arched his back, eyes fluttering half-closed as Beshelar sank down to take him in fully. Beshelar half-hoped that if he ignored the command, it might just go unnoticed. But as soon as Csevet's eyes opened again he was watching Beshelar, waiting–

The sound of the slap seemed far louder than it should have been. Beshelar had been gentle – it would not do to have Edrehasivar's principle secretary wander about with a split lip – or at least he had tried to be. How could he judge these things? He'd never slapped a person before in his life.

Csevet was breathing hard. He was shivering beneath Beshelar, and he whined, low and ragged, when Beshelar stopped moving. His hips jerked up and Beshelar slapped him again. 'Enough of that,' he said, holding himself perfectly still, even with Csevet's cock up his arse. He could feel the muscles in Csevet's lower body tremble, pulled tight, trapped. Slowly, he began to move at his own pace.

The force of Csevet's orgasm and the way he curled up afterwards, a pleased set to his ears, exhausted and well-used, was gratifying. But the redness on his white cheek didn't fade until several hours afterwards, and Beshelar couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort he felt whenever he thought back to that moment.

Still. Csevet enjoyed it, and what else mattered beyond that? Beshelar served him in the bedroom as he had served Captain Orthema as a soldier and now Edrehasivar with his life. He served – that was what he did. That was what he was. What was so unreasonable about that?

And now, as they lay very far apart in the bed – something, and seriously so, apparently. Possibly many things. Beshelar knew he was not a good liar, not even a half-decent actor, but he'd never been much bothered by it. The truth was more important than any person's feelings. And so, it wasn't that he hadn't thought Csevet wouldn't realise the extent of how little he cared for what Csevet liked in the bed – more that he hadn't thought Csevet would mind. At least, not this much.

They both got up, and dressed, and it was becoming abundantly clear that Csevet was angrier than Beshelar had ever seen him before. Angrier than the situation warranted by far, but telling him that had only, predictably, made matters worse.

'I am not here to fuck an automaton,' Csevet hissed. 'I might as well go out and use Edrehasivar's name to terrify a stable boy into bending to my every whim, if this is what art going to be like.'

'A stable boy?' Beshelar said, the insult even the more sharp for being unexpected.

Csevet threw up his hands in angry exasperation. 'And here I was,' he said, 'thinking I was in bed with a man.'

Real annoyance, a prickling, hot frustration, ran through Beshelar. His eyes narrowed. 'So says the one who likes to be held down and slapped whilst being fucked.'

Csevet raised his hand; Beshelar caught him by the wrist effortlessly, holding him whilst he struggled. Csevet's lips were drawn back in a snarl. 'Let go,' he said.

Perversely, Beshelar held on. Csevet raised his other hand and Beshelar caught that one as well. 'Let me go, damn thee!' Csevet yanked back, but might as well have been trying to break steel manacles. 'So, now wilt throw away the one thing wert good at?'

Hauling him closer, Beshelar moved Csevet's wrists to hold in just one of his hands, and with the other he gripped Csevet tight by the back of his neck. Csevet froze as Beshelar said, 'Is this not what thou wantest?'

The moment shattered. It was fear, not anger, in Csevet's eyes. Beshelar let him go and Csevet stumbled back, retreating to the other side of the room. He was breathing hard.

Beshelar sat down on the floor against the bed, leaning his head back against the mattress. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of the door and Csevet leaving. He ignored the nagging voice in his head telling him that it was undignified to sit so on the floor. The whole situation was undignified, amongst other things.

The sound of the door didn't come. After a long moment, footsteps, and Csevet dropped down to sit beside him. Neither spoke for a while.

'That was poorly done,' Csevet said, and Beshelar made a soft noise of agreement.

Another small while, then, 'Dost think thou wilt always be so? And I will never be able to trust this as mutual, and ourselves as equals?

Beshelar didn't chew on his lip, or sigh, or any of the small actions that had been deemed unacceptable by his various teachers. 'Perhaps,' he said. If only he had let Csevet go when first ordered to.

'Perhaps,' Csevet echoed. He sounded tired, and distinctly unimpressed. 'But perhaps,' he then said, 'I have been selfish.'

He turned and leant against Beshelar, face in the crook of his neck, hot breath on Beshelar's skin. His whole body was relaxed, lolling like someone very far into their cups, if the drunk were ever a tenth as graceful as Csevet.

'It's time I looked after thee, dost think? Now I have thy measure.' Csevet's hand was cupping him through his trousers, palming at his cock, which hardened under his gentle ministrations. Their eyes met, and Beshelar had the dizzying notion of being stripped, searched and examined, judged to find exactly how far he was coming up short.

And then, switching suddenly like stepping out of a dark room into sunlight: the look between them became understanding.

'Up,' Csevet said. 'On the bed.'

'Yes,' Beshelar said, still dizzy, feeling blood rush to his head – and other parts of him – as he got up, and crawled onto the bed.

'Very good,' Csevet said, and smiled.


End file.
